


Patterns and Interpretations

by merentha13



Category: The Professionals (TV 1977)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:33:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23088613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merentha13/pseuds/merentha13
Summary: Post "Involvement"
Relationships: William Bodie/Ray Doyle
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Patterns and Interpretations

It was a year ago that I stood at the window and watched a figure clothed in plaid and misery spin desolately around in a circle. Looking for what? But I knew. I moved to the door. 

Cowley called to me, to stop me. “Bodie!”

“Yeah, I know. Never come between a man and his woman. What about a man on his own who's taken a bit of stick? Got a proverb for that?” I didn’t wait for a reply and hurried out the door.

On the way down the stairs, I couldn’t help but think. This one, this Ann Holly, fell a bit outside the normal course of events. There was a definite pattern to Doyle and his birds: meet them, fall for them, court them… and lose them. Don’t know why he has so much trouble holding on to his women. Don’t understand why he would want to, come to that. Never saw the need for the wife, the 2.4 kids, the dog. But Ann didn’t fit the pattern. Her, he was going to marry. Still can’t remember if that was his idea or mine! Seem to remember sayin’ to him, _“Next thing you know, you'll be telling me you're going to marry her.”_ And him sayin’, _“Yeah, well, I might just do that.”_ But at the end of the day, he was alone again.

Walking towards him, it’s not hard to interpret the mood he’s in, the hunched shoulders, the scrunched eyebrows – hell, even his curls look sad. I try to offer a bit of comfort, a matey arm around his shoulder, but he pushes me away. Not surprising. That fits the pattern too; it’s just Doyle. Right tetchy when his world falls apart, is Ray. But I have a pattern to follow too, and I won’t leave him like this. So I take a deep breath and follow after him. He takes few steps and then stops, waiting for me. This is new. Normally I’d be chasing him all the way home. Setting a new precedent here. Maybe I should go for broke. He puts his arm around me and I lean in and drop a kiss on his cheek. I wonder how Sherlock will interpret that.

And here we are, a year later. Exactly a year. The silly sod-- I have to smile as I light the single candle topping the elegantly frosted cupcake he had left for me on the kitchen worktop. A single red rose, hastily sketched on a napkin, lay nearby. A bit of a romantic, my Ray. He had been called out on an undercover op before dawn. I’d been out all night wrapping up a babysitting job with Susan, so we’d not crossed paths this morning, our anniversary, one year on. But we’re used to the job mucking up our plans. No need to worry. There will be time later to celebrate this new pattern, with no interpretation necessary. And right now, there is a bit of cake to decipher.

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2012 for a Tea and SwissRoll Challenge


End file.
